


your hand in my hand, so still and discreet

by Archadian_Skies



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Captivity, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Daniel & Simon (Detroit: Become Human) are Twins, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: Hunters had left it there to die. Chancing upon a captured fae bound in iron, Simon uses his magic to set them free, but in light of their injuries he takes them home to help them heal first.
Relationships: Connor & Daniel (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Daniel (Detroit: Become Human), Daniel & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900/Simon
Comments: 11
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fiveofswords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveofswords/gifts), [Indig0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indig0/gifts).



> For the tumblr prompts "Unbind me (from a curse?)" and "Quiet me"

They had left it there to die. Simon dropped his basket, nearly tripping over the roots of the tree as he scrambled forward to reach the creature thrashing madly against its chains. A beautiful, otherworldly creature with slightly human features, large black wings and clawed hands and feet. The stench of burnt flesh was thick in the air and Simon didn’t need to touch the chains to know they were made of pure iron. The captive creature bled profusely from a bear trap clamped into its leg and a wide collar suffocating, _burning_ , its throat while it clawed at it desperately. Its icy grey eyes were wide with terror, locking onto Simon and letting out a strangled cry. 

“It’s alright! It’s alright stay still!” Simon hushed, soothed it, empty palms held up to show he meant no harm. “Shhhh, everything’s going to be just fine.” He reached out, cupping the creature’s cheek and feeling soft feathers and wet tears against his palm. “Shhhh…”

The creature had its sharp teeth bared in a scowl though it ceased struggling, as if trying to gauge whether Simon was simply bluffing before delivering a killing blow. He stayed that way for a while, hushing it, soothing it, with soft gentle strokes. After a while it closed its eyes and leaned into his palm, and Simon brought up his other hand to pat its beautiful feathered hair. 

“You’re very far from home. Your kind aren’t meant to be out this way.” He murmured, shaking his head. “The hunters would’ve waited for you to either tire yourself out or die from self-inflicted wounds before carving you up. Your claws and teeth are worth a fortune, let alone your blood and feathers. You’re lucky a silly little witch found you instead, hm?”

He left it briefly to fetch his fallen basket, sorting through the freshly picked greenery to select a few before he returned to its side. “Here, chew on these.” He offered a handful of leaves, trying not to stare when the creature opened its mouth and he saw just how terrifying those teeth were up close. It plucked the leaves from his palm with surprising delicacy, scrunching up its nose in displeasure once it began chewing. Simon laughed, giving it an encouraging pat. “It’ll make you feel better and numb the pain. I’m going to begin undoing these chains, but it’ll take some time alright? Iron is impervious to most spells but there’s still a few up my sleeve that will break them.”

The creature nodded in understanding, shifting a little so Simon could reach its neck properly. There was something incredibly humbling about that gesture alone; a powerful creature offering its neck for aid with the very real possibility of betrayal. Not that Simon would ever do such a cruel, heartless thing. Resting his palms against the collar, he closed his eyes and poured his magic into the unyielding metal, wearing it down until it cracked and crumbled to harmless pieces onto the forest floor. Immediately the creature touched its bare throat gingerly, wincing in pain. 

“I can make a salve for you back at my home, but first let me get the trap from your leg.” Simon pointed at its left leg, and the creature adjusted its posture so it could prop up its leg on one of the larger tree roots. Fae blood shimmered, unlike the rich velvet colour of human blood; it was thinner, slippery and shiny, and also worth a fortune. There were witches out there who practiced blood magic using fae blood, and it was darker than anything Simon would ever be willing to craft. The extraction alone, the process of obtaining fae blood, was already too horrific for Simon to agree to. The hunters would have made enough to last half a lifetime with the spoils of their kill. Would have, if not for a meddling little witch.

Simon hid a smile as the trap crumbled to dust, stepping back so the creature could ease its leg back into a comfortable position. It tried to stand and winced, unable to put any weight on it, and Simon rushed forward to place his hands on its chest, pushing it to lean against the tree.

“No no, don’t. It’s alright. Like I said, I can make a salve for your injuries.” He picked up his basket just as he heard a twig snap somewhere. “The hunters-”

The creature surged forward, wrapping its arms around Simon and kicking off the ground, powerful wings beating as it flew them to safety. Simon clung on for dear life, arms wrapped around its neck though he was mindful not to touch the thick ring of raw burned flesh. When he could finally bear to look down, he scanned the environment below, trying to place himself.

“There!” He pointed at a cottage at the foot of the hills. “That’s my home!” There was no smoke puffing up from the chimney, so his brother would still be in town. Thankfully. Simon wasn’t sure how he would be able to explain a large fae creature in their home to Danny. 

When they landed, he half expected it to dart back up into the sky and flee, but instead it tucked its wings to its back and hobbled after him. Simon ushered it inside and busied himself with lighting a fire and finding his mortar and pestle to make fresh salve. The warmth seemed to soothe it, and it was comical watching it lower its massive form into a hulking curl by the fire. It made a soft pleased hum, and Simon giggled before he could help himself. The air filled with the scent of crushed herbs and the crackle of magic as Simon wove healing spells into the mixture. With careful fingers he spread the paste over its raw skin, conscientious when it hissed in pain. 

“You’re alright, you’re doing so very well.” Simon hushed, setting the bowl aside and patting its hair in a soothing, repetitive gesture. “You’ll feel better in no time.” The last of the adrenaline finally wore itself out, and exhaustion overwhelmed him. The creature tipped its head, icy grey eyes looking over him before it slowly reached out and slipped an arm around his waist, pulling him onto its lap. It unfurled its wings carefully, tucking them around like a set of dark curtains as it cradled Simon close. Shifting, he pressed his ear to its broad feathered chest and found that its heartbeat had a tempo much like his own. Simon slept.

* * *

“I’m uh- I’m just going to sit here, far away, and you’re going to tell me why there is not only a fae creature in our house, but also why you are using it as a bed.” Daniel’s voice roused him from sleep, and his eyes snapped open, locating his brother sitting on a chair pulled to the far end of the room. He looked up, seeing confusion on the creature’s face most likely because he and Daniel were identical.

“I found it in the forest while gathering supplies. The hunters had chained it up to die.” Simon pointed at its throat, at the ring of salve he’d spread over its broken skin. “They used pure iron. It was either going to burn to death or kill itself trying to escape.”

“So you brought it home?” A cocked brow.

“So I brought it home.” Simon echoed stubbornly, and Daniel sighed. 

“You know that’s one of the princes, right?” The stunned look on Simon’s face spoke otherwise, and Daniel sighed again. “That’s the younger one. The Knight. He’s the bigger one with grey eyes. The Crown Prince has garnet eyes.” 

“Why were you out in the forest so far from your kingdom?” Simon tipped his head up, and the prince averted his gaze. “Wait, why do you know what their eyes look like, Danny?”

“...I...may have met the Crown Prince once, when I travelled through the mountain pass as a shortcut back from the mushroom caves.” 

“Oh, so you tell me off for bringing one home when you’ve already gone and befriended the other?” Simon huffed, and Daniel rolled his eyes.

“We just spoke briefly, I don’t think that counts as ‘befriending’.” Daniel avoided his gaze, arms crossed defensively across his chest. “He was just sheltering from the storm because the downpour would’ve made it hard to fly. Anyway the mountain pass is way closer to their kingdom than our forest. Still have no clue as to why the Knight would be snooping around here.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s here and he’s going to stay until he’s well enough to stand again.” Simon rested his head back against his chest, and the prince hummed, curling one wing protectively around him. 

“His uh-” Daniel darted the prince a glance, only managing to hold that stormy grey gaze briefly. “His name is Ronan. The Crown Prince is Connor.” 

“Ronan.” Simon repeated with a smile, touching the soft short feathers at his hairline. Ronan chased the contact, pushing against his hand when Simon tried to draw it back. He laughed, threading his fingers tenderly into his feathered hair, touching the long thin pinions that mixed with the dark locks. 

“I am clearly interrupting something, so I’ll see myself to bed.” Daniel rolled his eyes, shaking his head as Simon squawked in protest. “I’m leaving before first light tomorrow, to make it to Ralph’s fields. He said the elderflowers are best harvested with morning dew drops, before they evaporate with the day’s sun.”

“More potent that way.” Simon added distractedly, scritching along Ronan’s scalp and laughing when the fae closed his eyes blissfully. “Be careful, then.”

“ _You_ be careful. You’re the one with a prince inside our cottage.” Daniel scoffed, putting the chair back to the table and stalking off upstairs. 

“I think we’ll be just fine, hm?” Simon traced the long black talons on the ends of his fingers, and Ronan turned his hand palm side up so Simon could slide his hand into his. He’d get up to make them a late supper, eventually. For now he marvelled at how very soft he felt, and how Ronan’s chest rose and fell with each measured breath. A beautiful, deadly yet gentle creature- why would anyone think to destroy him for monetary gain?

* * *

Having made good on his word, Daniel was long gone by the time Simon woke with dawn’s light. Ronan stirred at the movement, looking down at him with softness in those cold eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” Simon cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing over the sharp jutt of his cheekbone. Ronan touched his throat and made an uncomfortable face. “I’ll make you a nice soothing tea. That should help with the tightness, and then I’ll make a fresh batch of salve.” Briefly, Ronan tightened his arms around Simon’s waist before letting him go, trailing him to the kitchen as if reluctant to let him out of his sight. There was a loaf of berry bread covered with a tea towel and a scribbled note from Daniel reminding him not to skip breakfast before tending to the day’s potion orders. Silly Danny, Simon thought fondly, as if he’d ever pass up an opportunity to eat his baked goods.

Losing himself to the mindless routine of brewing tea, Simon let his thoughts stray to his guest. What was a prince doing so far from home, so close to a town bustling with mortals ready to cut him down? And why was he nothing like the terrible tales told when they were children, of feathered beasts with no humanity, no mercy? Beasts that brave hunters slew to keep the town safe, wearing their feathers as a warning to keep the others at bay. If they were beasts, why did one shelter so harmlessly with Danny, passing hours with him with no violence between them? Why did this one touch him so gently, with hands that were meant to rip and tear and destroy? 

Meticulously pouring out the peppermint and honey tea, he passed Ronan a cup before pouring one for himself. The bread slices toasted crisply on the embers, and the smell of berries filled the kitchen with sweetness. They ate and Simon watched him, that looming creature of feathers and claws, picking up a mug with the greatest of care and sipping it between nibbles of toast. 

“Thank you.” Ronan whispered, voice scratchy and low. 

“You’re very welcome. Here, let me put more salve on your iron burns.” The prince tipped his head up, and Simon smoothed fresh paste over the now pinked skin, pleased that today it looked far less angry than yesterday. His leg looked better too, and he could put some measure of weight on it, though not for long. 

“Your poor brother will be worried, won’t he?” Simon frowned, knowing that if he failed to come home, Daniel would be distraught. “You should probably fly home tonight, after nightfall so the hunters won’t see you.”

Ronan nodded, mouth open to say something before a loud knock interrupted him. Without even thinking, Simon raised his voice. 

“Coming!” He winced, so used to answering the door for customers picking up their orders that he completely forgot he was meant to be harbouring a fae creature from sight. “Quick! Go upstairs, they mustn’t see you!” Shooing him away frantically, Simon waited until he disappeared upstairs before wrapping a shawl around his shoulders and opening the door. Three hunters looked at him with false pleasant smiles.

“Good morning, sir.” They removed their hats, heads inclined slightly in greeting. “Won’t bother you for too long. See, there was a beast we trapped in the forest and it seemed to have escaped.”

“Bound it in iron we did.” One of them added gruffly, eyeing Simon suspiciously. “Only a witch could’ve unmade those shackles.” 

“I am not the only witch who lives in this town.” Simon tried his best to sound like Daniel, to channel his irritated, unimpressed demeanour. 

“No sir, but you are the closest to the forest’s edge.” Another refuted with a cocked brow. “And witches that brew with fae blood craft the most potent, powerful potions.”

“You are sorely mistaken if you think I would ever slay a creature just to bleed it for use.” Simon hissed, the rage very real in his veins. Before anyone could get another word in, an arm slid around his waist from behind, and a very bare body pressed up against his back as a chin came to rest on his shoulder. Simon felt his cheeks burn.

“Who are these people, love?” Ronan growled, voice a rough scrape, face mostly hidden behind Simon’s head as he pressed a kiss to his hair.

“Hunters.” Simon tried his best to keep his voice light though his cheeks were flushed. “Thought I had something to do with freeing a creature they trapped in the woods. But I wasn’t anywhere near the woods yesterday, gentlemen. I had company over, you see.” They averted their eyes, suddenly losing their gruff intimidating behaviour in favour of embarrassed contrition.

“A-ah, sorry sir. We’ll be leavin’ now.”

“Yes, sorry to bother you both.”

“Have a nice day.”

Ronan reached out and shut the door in their face before Simon could reply. He whirled around to find a very _large_ , very _unfeathered_ , very _naked_ man instead of the fae creature he’d been tending to that morning. Quickly looking away, Simon took a few deep breaths.

“Right. Um. Clothes. I will fetch you some clothes.” Simon said aloud mostly for his own benefit as he pointedly looked anywhere else instead of fixating on his not-so-fae-looking guest. Unable to help himself, because he was of course a mortal of flesh and blood, he glanced over only to find Ronan still standing there, an amused quirk on his lips as he regarded Simon coolly. Simon swallowed thickly and headed upstairs. 

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Simon sat opposite him at the table as Ronan, now fully dressed, sipped on another cup of honey tea. He shrugged, expression mischievous. “At least you threw them off my tail completely. They’ll never suspect it was me now.”

The long workbench was populated with orders written on little slips of paper and bundles of herbs, plants, and flowers as well as rows of labelled bottles. A fat, well loved tome rested right in the middle. 

“The day’s only just beginning and you can’t fly home until it’s dark so how about you lend me a hand, hm?” Simon suggested, reaching over to rest his hand over his. “I could use some help with all these orders.”

The prince, Simon learned, made for an excellent assistant. He was precise and patient, quick to learn and obedient when given a task. The house filled with all sorts of smells, some sweet, some sour, some happy, some bitter. Simon wove his magic into each potion, each balm, each tonic, each salve. They paused for a lunch of garden vegetables and leftover beef pie Daniel had baked yesterday. There was something so easy about it all, something so calm and domestic about working side by side, about eating across from each other. He wished it could last, but he knew it mustn’t. When the sun dipped below the horizon, Simon steeled himself for the inevitable parting. He packed a small pouch with a tin of salve and a little sachet of herbal tea.

“It’s best you get going now.” Simon offered him the pouch. “Make sure to apply this twice a day, and there’s some herbal tea that you can mix honey into, for your throat.”

Ronan undressed, Simon quickly pivoting for privacy and there was the unmistakable thrum of magic in the air. When he turned back around, the feathered fae prince blinked slowly at him. He followed him outside and slipped the cords of the pouch around his wrist, before curling against his chest briefly.

“I suppose this is goodbye, then.” Simon tried not to let the sadness seep into his voice. Ronan wrapped his arms around him tightly, and Simon embraced him in return. 

“Not goodbye forever.” He whispered, small smile on his handsome face. “Just goodbye for now.” A promise sealed with a kiss pressed to his lips.

Simon stepped back and watched him crouch down before leaping up into the air, wings unfurling for flight. He watched him soar up above, higher and higher until he vanished above the clouds. Heading back inside, Simon touched his lips with a smile, cheeks flushed with delight. Just a goodbye for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Daniel said "We just spoke briefly, I don’t think that counts as ‘befriending’" he was telling a big, fat, bare-faced _lie._

He knew it was going to rain at some point that day, he just wished it happened later rather than sooner. Daniel groaned as the first few droplets splattered atop his head, and he pulled his hood up as he looked around for shelter. The mountain pass was a long, winding, steep little track that was already difficult during the best weather and so he knew it would be wise to wait out the storm rather than hurrying down the rest of the way, even if he didn’t have far to go.

There was an alcove up ahead, not large enough to be a cave but deep enough to provide ample shelter from the elements. Daniel carefully made his way towards it, nearly stumbling twice before he crawled into its furthest end and hugged his knees. He tucked the bag of mushrooms at his side, mindful not to crush them and make the arduous journey all for nothing. Simon wouldn’t be mad, that wasn’t Simon’s way, no, he’d be worried firstly about Daniel’s well-being and then he would be disappointed in that quiet way of his. That’s just how Simon was, his silly soft brother with his silly soft heart that he gave away so easily. It’s why Daniel tried so hard to protect him, tried so hard to do all the hard labour so Simon could stay home with their herb garden and all his little bottles, all his little tins and sachets. 

Simon was always the more powerful witch between them. Daniel was too rough, too explosive with his magic, unable to harness it usefully like Simon. He took after their mother that way, her magic was always tied so strongly to her emotions but useless in the day to day save for what small encouragement she would ebb into her light touches. Simon was like their father, with his quiet nurturing ways, steadfast and hardworking and where he poured his magic into woodworks, Simon poured his into potions. And it had been an ordinary life, a slow and harmless one, until one day Daniel realised they were intending to sell them to a coven in exchange for a larger casting ground, one where the soil was more fertile and rich with runes. Their own flesh and blood, sold to a coven where they would be worked like slaves, the magic bled from them for stupid things, for tourist trinkets, or poured into the marble to strengthen the foundations of a casting ground.

He’d snapped. He could remember the air crackling, the hairs on his arms rising as magic thrummed in the air and he remembered the look of horror on their faces and he remembered thinking: yes, that’s right. This is all your fault. The explosion levelled their home and burnt the garden to ashes and there were no bodies left to bury. Just Simon standing there with tears streaming down his sooty face. And that’s how it had been from that day forth. Just Simon and him, making their way through life in a faraway quiet town where no one knew their name. There were a few witches too, which made it feel less foreign. Not that he spent much time in town. He preferred to fetch Simon whatever he required, he preferred to keep himself moving so as not to dwell on the past. It’s why he had left before dawn’s light that day, making the trek up the mountain pass to the mushroom caves where rare, glowing mushrooms grew. Simon would use those for healing tinctures, and Daniel would use the ordinary mushrooms that grew outside the cave for beef and mushroom pie. It was always worth the trip. He just wished he had control over the weather. That certainly would have been a more useful power.

The rain starts to come down in sheets, louder and louder, and Daniel hopes against hope that it doesn’t turn into a storm. He can’t stand storms. A large shadow suddenly blocks out what dim light made it into the alcove, and Daniel looked up just in time to see a huge feathered creature clumsily scrabbling for purchase, no doubt also trying to hide from the rain. Daniel grabbed the precious bag of mushrooms, hugging them to his chest as the creature tried to curl itself up to fit in the small space. Their eyes met, and Daniel found himself looking at a rather human face, with claret-coloured eyes, and a soft pleasing mouth opened slightly in curiosity.

“Oh.” It spoke, tipping its head with a smile. “You’re a witch.”

“You’re a Fae.” Daniel frowned, tightening his hold on his bag as the creature wriggled to sit up, tucking its massive wings at its back.

“I’m Connor, the Crown Prince of the Rose Court.” He offered a blackened hand with long talons and Daniel looked at it incredulously before carefully giving it a shake.

“I’m Daniel. From uh. From the town of Jericho.”

“You were at the caves.” Connor held up a pouch dangling from his wrist. “I was there too. Looks like we both got caught by the storm.”

“It’s not a storm.” Daniel muttered, and Connor looked over his shoulder at the incessant rain.

“It will be. I can feel the lightning gathering.” Daniel swallowed thickly, trying to calm his breathing.

“I hate storms.”

“They never last.” Connor reassured lightly. “Do you use the mushrooms for curatives?”

“My brother does.” Daniel peeked inside the bag, comforted by the soft blue glow the mushrooms emitted. “We take orders from the townsfolk for curatives. He’s the magic caster and I’m the errand boy.”

“That’s not entirely true, you brim with magic.” Connor pointed out, and Daniel scowled.

“It isn’t a useful kind of magic.”

“You could be a powerful caster for a noble family.”

“I’d rather die than be enslaved to a family as some attack dog.” He scoffed, reminded all too well of accidentally discovering the signed contract his father hadn’t meant to leave out on the table. 

“Fair enough.” Connor nodded, dropping the subject. “Are you the older or younger brother?” 

“Older.” The rain was so loud it seemed to fill his head with its deluge and had to raise his voice a little to even hear himself. He thought of Simon back at home, waiting for him, likely worried because that’s just what Simon did: worry over Daniel. “We’re twins but I’m the older one. It’s been just me and Simon for a decade and a half now.”

“I’m the older brother too.” Connor smiled. “My younger brother, Ronan, is actually bigger than me. He’s a Knight and protects our Court. We look almost like twins if not for our size, and his eyes are grey.”

“My brother looks exactly like me.” Daniel snorted a laugh. “Except softer, somehow. That’s just how Simon is.”

“My brother is surprisingly gentle. Well, not surprising to me but to others.” Connor added, shuffling a little so his back was pressed to the same wall Danny leaned on. From this close Daniel could feel the magic that seemed to pulse out of him, that same aura all the fae had wrapped around them. 

“Does the Queen really let her son fly around and fetch mushrooms?” Daniel narrowed his eyes and the smile he received in reply was incredibly sheepish.

“She didn’t exactly...give her permission. And I wasn’t meant to be gone long!” Connor added hastily, chewing his lip as he looked out at the rain. “It’s just too dangerous for me to try and fly home right now.”

A flash of lightning seared white light in his vision temporarily and a loud clap of thunder rolled in its wake. Daniel winced, feeling his heartbeat spike in terror. He was there again, there in their family home with the crackle of magic like lightning in the air. He could hear the crash, the bang, the explosion of his magic blowing the home apart and the thunderous downfall of wood and stone hitting the ground. Squeezing his eyes shut, he clapped his hands over his ears and pressed hard to try and drown out the sound. He hated storms, he hated storms so very much and he wanted to be home instead, he wanted to be by the fire or perhaps by the ovens making Simon beef and mushroom pie with rosemary from their garden because it was Simon’s favourite and-

Hands slid over his own, warm large hands, cupped close to his head. When he opened his eyes Connor looked at him with concern, brows creased in that worrisome way as he held his hands over Daniel’s tightly, the added barrier successful in reducing the thunder to barely a murmur. Shuffling forward, Connor carefully unfurled his massive wings and curled them around Daniel, cocooning him from seeing anything other than black feathers. Belatedly he realised he was trembling almost violently, but the moment Connor folded him close his breathing shakily settled into something manageable, something less panicked. Closing his eyes again, Daniel leaned forward and rested his brow against Connor’s shoulder. He felt, rather than heard, him make a soft hum in acknowledgement, and Daniel focused on the rise and fall of his broad chest and the steady thrum of his powerful heartbeat and everything was alright for now.

The sound came back gradually and Daniel stirred from the light sleep he’d accidentally fallen into. Connor looked down at him with a small smile, arms back at his sides and no longer clamped over Daniel’s ears.

“The rain’s stopped now.” He said, once Daniel lowered his own hands.

“Better head home before the Queen gets really upset.” Daniel managed a quirk of a grin, and Connor smiled that sheepish smile again.

“Yes. That and my brother will be worried, and when he’s worried he’s prone to lecturing me.”

“Oh same.” Daniel laughed, gathering his bag and slinging it at his back. “I better get going too. Still have to make my way through the forest before I reach home.”

“The mountain path is incredibly dangerous.” Connor frowned. “You should wait until it dries a little, otherwise you could fall very easily.”

“Won’t make it home by nightfall if I do that.” Daniel shrugged. “It’s okay, I’ll be careful.”

“Simon would not think that’s okay if you were to twist your ankle, or break a leg trying to rush home.” Connor huffed and Daniel thought, oh, this must be how Simon feels, to be Older Brothered all the time. “I will fly you home.”

“You will not!” Daniel gaped, shaking his head. “That’s the worst idea ever! There are hunters in our town!”

“Well they won’t be out anyway. That storm would’ve driven everyone home. They won’t be in the forest, and there’s still heavy cloud cover.” Connor said matter of factly, in the exact same stubborn way Daniel often spoke to Simon. “I will fly above the clouds and occasionally dip down to get my bearings. I’ll fly you to the outskirts of the forest, closest to your home.”

“Connor-”

“I’m doing it.” Connor cut him off with a Look and Daniel scowled. “Hey, don’t give me attitude, I’m not doing this just for you you know. I’m doing this for Simon, because I know my own little brother will be worrying back at home too.”

“Ugh, okay, alright _fine_!” Daniel grumbled, following Connor out of the alcove. “How...do I-?”

“Oh, like this.” Connor stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him much like giving him an embrace. That was all the notice he gave before he crouched down and jumped up, pushing off the ground and beating his massive wings to climb higher and higher and higher. Daniel may have yelled. He clung tightly to him, face buried in his feathered shoulder, unable to manage more than an occasional glance below. The mushroom cave was high up, but not this high. Daniel’s never seen everything look so...small. 

True to his word Connor stayed above the heavy grey clouds, dipping only briefly below to situate himself. Daniel managed to recognise the thick sprawling cluster of trees and he knew they were almost home. 

“I’m guessing that quaint little cottage and wonderful garden is your home?” 

“Yes, but don’t drop me off in front of it, Simon will kill me!” Daniel hissed, and Connor laughed indulgently.

“Alright, I’ll land a ways off and you can walk the rest of the way.” The prince tucked his wings close to his body and the sudden freefall made Daniel yelp in surprise, clutching at Connor’s shoulders a little too hard. The ground rose up to meet them at an alarming rate, and just when Daniel thought he truly was about to smash into jam, Connor opened his wings and buffeted them up briefly before making a gentle landing and depositing Daniel back on his feet. He promptly fell to his knees, legs like jelly, and Connor crouched down worriedly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. No? I’m-” Daniel stammered, accepting his hand as he helped him upright. “I’m just glad I’m back on solid ground. Um thank you. For- for back there. During the storm. And for flying me home.”

“It’s alright. It was nice talking to someone-” he paused, searching for the right word, “not in the Court. You didn’t treat me differently. We were just...two strangers, sheltering from the storm. So thank you.”

Oh that’s right. Connor was the Crown Prince. Daniel had forgotten some time ago, some time before he held him close and drowned out the bad memories. 

“Now hurry home, so Ronan doesn’t worry.” Daniel ordered, because aside from being the Crown Prince, Connor was also the big brother and had an equally worried little brother waiting at home. The fae smiled, all sharp teeth that somehow didn’t frighten Daniel one bit.

“Got it.” And with a powerful downstroke of his great black wings, he was airborne.

* * *

Ronan was, predictably, pacing the large landing balcony. Upon spotting his brother, a myriad of emotions flashed across his face- worry, anger, relief, gratitude- he settled on relief when Connor’s feet touched the tile, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

“When the storm rolled in-”

“I’m fine.” Connor soothed, nuzzling into his shoulder affectionately.

“Connor I was so worried! Not only did you sneak out, you didn’t even take me with you!” Ronan clutched him almost desperately. “What if someone had ambushed you?”

“Nothing happened. I just waited out the storm, that’s all.” Connor held out the little pouch dangling from his wrist. “I got those mushrooms from the cave.”

“Thiriums?” Ronan brightened, accepting the bag and peering inside to marvel at their blue glow. “I’ll have the cooks make us that pie we like.” His smile vanished and he frowned. “I am still mad at you for leaving.”

“I know.” Connor laughed. “I thought this could at least soften the blow.”

“Why do you smell like-” he wrinkled his nose thoughtfully, trying to place the scent. “I don’t know. You smell like...magic?”

“I met a witch. We both sheltered from the storm together, in an alcove on the mountain pass.” He thought of Daniel’s bright blue eyes and his sharp handsome face. “He was up gathering thiriums too. His younger twin makes them into curatives.”

“Oh?” Ronan blinked, intrigued as he led Connor inside, waving away the servants to fetch him a towel himself so he could pat down his feathers. “That’s quite the journey for a witch if they’re from Jericho. That’s the closest town but that’s still a long trek.” 

“It’s what I’d do for you.” Connor tapped his nose. “I got these for you, after all.” 

“Don’t guilt me into forgiving you.” Ronan huffed, freezing when he spotted their mother behind him. He straightened and bowed respectfully as Connor scrambled to do the same.

“Mother-”

“I’m sure Ronan already lectured you?” She cocked a perfectly arched brow. Connor sighed.

“Yes, he did.” 

“Well. There’s no use in me repeating the lecture.” She looked from one brother to the other. “Clean yourself and have the thiriums sent to the cooks. I can almost smell the pie already.” A faint smile graced her lips and Connor tried not to look so eager when he returned it.

“Yes mother.” 

“What was he like? The witch?” Ronan asked curiously once the Queen was gone. “I’ve never met one, they know to stay away from the Courts unless they come to bargain.”

“He was…” Bristly and defensive and yet soft at heart. Warm to hold, and smelled like berries and lavender. “Nice. Pleasant to talk to. Wary of me but I think he was more worried about his brother worrying about him at home. They live on the outskirts of the forest, on the other side of the end at the foot of the mountain pass. He spoke very fondly, dearly, of his younger twin. I think we bonded over our role as the older brother.”

There was a pause, lengthy, and he thought the conversation over when Connor spoke again, quieter this time as if too shy to share such things.

“He looked like winter; hair the colour of the winter sun, and eyes the colour of clear winter skies.” Connor shook his head as if trying to shake himself from his reverie. “I think he was beautiful.” 

Ronan turned that piece of information over and over in his head. A home on the outskirts of the forest, on the other side of the end at the foot of the mountain pass. Two witches, brothers, one a kindly, dear potion maker and the other a nice, pleasant gatherer. How very curious. Perhaps it would be his turn to sneak out of the palace. Perhaps it would be his turn for a new adventure and perhaps meet an unlikely new pair of friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Ronan looks like [feathered Howl Jenkins](https://64.media.tumblr.com/93027c6ecee475cb48ab0aa8faa085f5/tumblr_pckj4nDK6o1t5d7t3o4_540.gifv).  
> [I'm still on this hellsite](https://archadianskies.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
